


Her

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-24
Updated: 2003-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1638269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Yamazaki/Chiharu] - She's nothing really special. And he loves her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Meril

 

 

It's a cold Thursday morning somewhere in the middle of November when Yamazaki realises he loves her. 

It's been raining for days, and it hurts a bit when larger drops hit his arms or get in his eyes while he rides the same old bicycle to school so early in the morning that few of his neighbours have woken up yet, but today they're running late because she is grumpy and quiet when he gets to her house and they spend at least twenty minutes sitting by the porch waiting for the worst of the rain to wear out a little. It never does, and they have to go after all, and the thick, heavy drops drench him even through his winter clothes, but Yamazaki doesn't mind because he can feel the warmth of her skin even through layers of thick yellow plastic raincoat. It burns into him, leaving invisible marks in his chest of those small, bony fingers, slightly callused from all the baton twirling. 

Or at least he imagines that's how it would feel like, summoning memories of many summer breaks in Tomoeda and rides around town, warm bare arms wrapped around his waist hanging onto him for dear life, and Yamazaki suddenly can't resist the temptation of pulling the breaks and leaning forward, making the bike jump about a foot high and land on the sidewalk with no little impact. Arms tighten their clutch on his waist and it's hard to breathe for a second, but when the bike's stable again she slaps the back of his head and shouts his name with annoyance, and Yamazaki has to laugh because she's such a _girl_. 

When they get to Seijou High School and he locks the bike to the railing, turning to her to mention how silly her fear of riding bicycles is, given that she's been riding on his back for at least good five or six years, she's glaring at him and ready to give a full lecture on how dangerous his tricks are and he might end up getting hurt and what is she going to do if he gets hurt because she has to study and practice and there's no time to waste taking care of him. But before the first word comes out, the bells ring at the tower across the school, on the other side of the chain link fence, where they spent the first years of their lives picking at each other until there was no other way but quietly admitting to themselves that this was meant to be from the very first day, and it's time for class again, the bells say. 

She narrows her eyes in indignation and delivers a series of girlish punches on his arm, which makes him laugh even though he knows he shouldn't because she's pretty damn serious about all this, especially when she growls, rolls her eyes and storms inside, starting to run down the corridor to try and make it inside class before the bells fall silent again. 

He grabs his duffel bag from the ground and throws that red old ragged thing that was once a rather expensive gift over his shoulder, running inside to catch her in the hall, noting to himself that maybe he should have taken better care of his high school entrance gift over the years. Because, come to think of it, _her_ yellow mailer bag is still as perfectly clean and well sewed as back in the day he gave it to her, along with a promise that he'll take her to school on the back of his bike every single morning come sun come rain till the day they graduated - except when the bike is on repair, but then he'll walk her home even under heavy snow, and when they go to college he'll buy a car and pick her up at her job and drive her back to campus every night - and yes, one day they will grow tired of seeing each other's face every single day and it will all be too much for them, but until then he is her personal transportation slave, bound by his own will. He wonders briefly what is he getting her when she does go to college, because she's definitely not going to campus with _that_ bag. 

Yamazaki runs down the hall and turns left, knowing this is not the shorter way to his classroom and that he'll probably not make it in time, but when he turns around the corner, grabbing onto a locker to keep from sliding over the slippery wet floor and throwing himself against the other side of the corridor, he sees her running ahead of him, trying to rid herself of the yellow raincoat with one hand because the other is busy holding the infamous yellow bag. Yamazaki grins, thinking there is way too much yellow in that picture. 

This clumsy girl hopping in one foot and pulling the coat sleeve down her arm with her mouth, desperate to reach class already because she can't afford to miss math classes no matter how much he helps her with homework and studies with her every other night going over and over the same quizzes with undefeatable patience only one who knows her like the palm of his own hand can give until she's able to solve them on her own - she's nothing like that perky cheerleader who spends her afternoons twirling batons, practicing triple spins and pyramids with Sakura and Naoko, coming up with new dorky things to yell for the jocks in the soccer and basketball and volleyball and tennis teams as a rather questionable way of incentive. She's nothing like the girl who parades around the school in her -of course- yellow uniform after practice, all miniskirts, fluffy socks and pride in being what she is, glad to be _who_ she is, happily ignoring the looks she gets from the goths and the punks and the science geeks to go upstairs knock on the Computer Club's door and snatch her geeky and brainy boyfriend-who-isn't away from the machines only long enough to take her home - unless he's really busy and they'll have to talk later over the phone. 

Which isn't, obviously, quite the same thing, but sometimes, after a whole afternoon programming and coding and calculating and doing everything all over because the first code has a miswritten string that prompts the wrong query, hearing her voice at night laughing over the phone is all Yamazaki wants or needs in life. 

That girl is not her at all, and yet she is all the same. There are no two like her in the world, and even if there were, Yamazaki knows he'd still choose this one. 

She makes it to the door just so, and knocks while still untangling the coat from her arm. He knows then he'll miss the first class, and he doesn't quite care, because this is her, and he'll miss first class any day of the week if she needs to talk or cry in his shoulder or just sit by the porch of her house at seven in the morning in somewhat comfortable silence hoping he'll understand -and he will- because this is _her_ , and there's nothing like her. She pulls herself together waiting for the door to open and he takes only another second to catch up and call her name. When she looks back at him, droplets of rain still caught in her hair fall to her feet, catching light and giving her sparkles he knows are not there, and he thinks for a second he's been watching too many glittery girlish animes with her when she stays over, but the sight is too good and perfect to pretend he doesn't feel an itching need to throw her around and give her some reason to be half-mad at him for the rest of the day. 

Running past her without faltering one single step, he grabs her waist and presses a loud kiss on her cheek, turning around in half a second to keep running down the hall even as she roars at him and shouts his first name, only refraining from throwing a shoe at his head because the teacher opens the door and stares down at her and then him with something more like amusement than anything else. Yamazaki laughs out loud and slows the pace as the bells die and he's definitely late for class. He glances back to see her entering class and keeps walking the last bit of the hall towards the stairs with a grin spread so wide upon his lips he feels he might explode. He's drenched, his clothes are cold and sticking to him everywhere, his heart beats madly from the mostly useless dash, his arm is a tiny little bit sore because her punches are getting stronger through the years, and his father won't be pleased to know he was late for Literature, of all things, but he knows nothing in the world could make him stop smiling right now because it's not every ordinary morning you find out something like this. 

He's not not really sure what day is today, but he knows it's November, and it's raining, and Chiharu is the best thing that ever happened to him. 

~ 12.23.03 ~ 

 


End file.
